


Hold You Up

by Wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wings/pseuds/Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Dean hugs Cas, cause the poor angel just needs a hug."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold You Up

A slight breeze whispered past Dean, light and silent, and he froze. The page in his hand crinkled between his fingers as his hand tensed, the yellowing paper almost tearing before he carefully let it fall to the desk. He didn't turn, didn't say anything, just waited while rain tapped against the glass, turning the night a Monet gray.

"Dean."

Dean sighed and let his head fall forward. "I guess it would be too much to ask you to teach Bobby how to fix the angel-proofing?" he said. He turned then and was out of his seat before he'd really taken in the view before him.

Castiel held a hand to the patch of blood blooming on his side through the fabric of his clothing. He grimaced at Dean's words. “I'd really rather not at this point in time.”

“Shit-,” Dean cursed and almost moved to help his friend, before some bitter part of his mind reminded him of everything that had happened and he froze, uncertain. In that hesitant moment though, Castiel let out a feeble cough and small spittle of blood trickled from his mouth. He made as though to take a step forward but stumbled and Dean forgot himself, darting forward to catch the angel before he could hit the ground.

“Jesus, Cas-!” Dean grunted as he lifted Castiel's deadweight, holding him in an awkward sort of embrace as he tried not to drop him. In his fumbling, his arm brushed against the edge of the wound and Castiel hissed his pain while Dean muttered an apologetic “ah, jeez!”. They managed to make it to the couch where Dean tried not to just drop his load on the cushion but lowered them both down carefully, keeping his arm on Castiel's shoulder so he didn't fall sideways onto his injury.

They didn't speak for a moment and Dean leaned forward to catch Castiel's gaze, drawing his attention up. “So? Speak up! Do I need the med pack or is your mojo gonna do the trick?” He tried to sound snappish, like he just wanted this over with, but he couldn't help a note of concern creeping into his tone.

Castiel's breathing was slow and controlled and when he answered, his voice was clear; no sounds of gurgling blood at the back of his throat. “I'll be fine. I'm healing myself now. It looks worse than it really is.” He winced and Dean couldn't help but doubt that last statement just a bit. “Flying here so soon probably wasn't the best choice.”

“Flying here... from where? What the hell happened? Uh...” Dean frowned to himself. “Never mind.”

Castiel turned to look at him and Dean froze under his blue gaze. Castiel sighed. “You can ask, Dean. I don't wish to hide anything from you. I never did.”

Dean coughed. “Sorry if I wasn't exactly getting the BFF vibe last time you were around,” he said sarcastically.

Castiel offered a half-smile that didn't stick and looked down to the floor, away from Dean. “I've severed my deal with Crowley.”

Dean froze, his eyes hard, and didn't say anything for a moment. Castiel shifted a little and Dean realized his fingers had been digging into the angel's shoulder and he quickly loosened his grip. He took a breath. “Are you fucking with me?” he asked, his voice no-bullshit-serious, eyes unblinking as he stared at the side of Castiel's face, watching for anything that suggested a lie.

Castiel frowned and looked almost hurt when he turned back to look at Dean. But then there was a hint of resignation there too, as though Dean's distrust in him was something he was teaching himself to live with. The idea sent a pang of guilt to Dean's heart but he smothered it, reminding himself of everything – his disappointment, Crowley, Cas' betrayal...

“I'm telling the truth, Dean.”

And that was it, Dean believed him, couldn't not, but he didn't let up. “Why?” he pressed, eyes hard. “Why now, all of a sudden? What happened to- to purgatory? To everything? Don't get me wrong, I like my life without an open door to monster land, but you seemed pretty damn set on it before. And now you're just gonna flush it all down the crapper?”

Castiel looked away again. “Yes.”

Dean waited, palms up and eyebrows raised. “Why?”

Castiel still was looking away. “I... rethought my situation,” he said to his hands. “I decided I had more to lose by working with Crowley, and much less to gain in compensation that would truly matter.”

Dean bit the inside of his lip and didn’t say anything. Castiel continued.

“I’ve realized once again how detached the Host is from human kind. They- We have been imploring humans to take things on faith for so long when we’ve never really had to ourselves. It’s not faith when all you’re doing is following the orders you were designed to follow.” He stopped and looked back again, eyes drilling blue into Dean. “If you’ll have me, I’m choosing to put my faith in you once again. Don’t make me regret this decision. Please.”

Dean might’ve been angry to have this put on him if it weren’t for that ‘please’. Castiel didn’t sound accusing, he just sounded tired. Uncertain, and like he was praying for it all to just go away, for Dean to please just make it all stop.

Dean frowned and brought his fingers up to hold the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, Cas.” He sighed. “You’ve done… so much crap for us...” He took a breath. “Don’t you make me regret this.”

Castiel blinked and Dean realized he might have been expecting Dean to deny him this second chance. “Thank you, Dean.”

“I don’t know how this’ll blow over with Sam,” Dean warned.

“I know.” Before Dean could protest, Castiel stood up. Despite his earlier weakness though, he seemed steady on his feet. “I should go,” he said.

“Hm, yeah,” Dean mumbled and pushed himself to his feet. “You be careful, right? And call if you get into real trouble.”

Castiel said nothing, neither a confirmation nor a denial but Dean didn't expect anything more. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, their quiet breathing almost drowned out by the pattering rain still coming down outside. Neither moved and while Castiel could flap off at any moment, it didn't feel like he want to; almost like he was afraid to. His forehead was creased with worry and his eyes were distracted as he watched the hunter. Weary, that was it. He looked like the world was catching up to him, like he was lost. The feeling was one that Dean could recall with ease, one that he'd grown up on. So familiar that it wasn't so much a disability but a reassurance that life was working how it always had, and with a sudden wave of sympathy he stepped forward and brought Castiel into a rough hug.

Castiel went stiff in Dean's arms, back straight and arms unmoving at his sides. But Dean didn't let go and after a moment he relaxed, exhaling as he brought his arms up hesitantly to return the gesture. The relief in him was practically tangible and Dean could tell he'd needed this, whether he knew it or not. And from the way he was still holding on, maybe Dean had needed this too.

“We're gonna beat this, Cas,” Dean said quietly, pointlessly. Both of them knew Dean didn't know shit about how to 'beat this', how to fix it all. Castiel didn't call him on it though.

“Thank you, Dean,” he said again, a little muffled by Dean's shoulder.

Dean nodded slightly and loosened his grip on the angel. He stepped away to the sound of flapping wings and when he looked again, Castiel was gone.


End file.
